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Archive for June, 2023|Monthly archive page

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A sharper image

In Children and Family, Education, Health, Opinion, Uncategorized on June 23, 2023 at 4:36 pm

Deer In Headlines II

By Gery Deer

When we meet someone, we form mental and emotional impressions of them based on personal behavior, past experiences, and other characteristics. That collection of impressions, what I call their “image,” becomes who we know them to be and there’s a lot riding on it. It defines how we relate to them for the duration. But when there is a serious conflict, that perception can be radically altered, forever.

Unfortunately, the perceptions we have of people are incredibly fragile. It takes very little to destroy how others see you, transforming you instantly from a cherished friend or family member to persona non grata.

A mean-spirited word, a slammed door, or even a disconnected telephone can escalate things, and then we start to fight back. Whether or not we are in the right, it’s pretty natural to become defensive when words are weaponized, our character is put into question, or our feelings get hurt. Of course, that just makes it worse.

Amidst such a vehement exchange, personalities may seem to alter as you each posture for a fight. All at once, a person with whom you have had a long, trusting connection no longer recognizes you, nor you them. Their understanding of who you are is suddenly and forever changed and any safety within the relationship is seemingly lost forever in the heat of the moment.

So how would they see you then? What happens to the relationship? Can it be salvaged, or, some psychologists might ask, should it be salvaged? That depends on how often such things occur, the depth of the emotional injury, and the circumstances.

When these conflicts occur between the same people, it becomes harder for them to see each other in the same light as before. The previous state of the relationship may never be recovered. The only hope may be that both people are willing to work together to prevent it from happening again.

It should go without saying that everybody needs to be on the same page, they must know what they want out of the resolution. Are they trying to rebuild the relationship and see each other the way they did before? Or are they merely patching it, hoping the problem doesn’t resurface, but without any real strategy to prevent it?

When perceptions change significantly, it may not be possible to see each other as before, reducing any desire to resolve the problem in the first place. It might not seem worth it at that point. The question is, can you accept the other person for how you see them now and start over?

More importantly, were you seeing them accurately in the first place? How much of who they are in your eyes is based on who you wanted them to be? An argument might simply have revealed a side of them previously unseen. Then again, that could be your incomplete perception.

Reading back through these paragraphs, I realize I’ve given you a lot of questions and very few answers. That’s because each situation is different and the outcome depends on personal dynamics, emotions, and circumstances, there is no cookie-cutter solution. That said, as with so many things in life, communication is key.

Effective communication must be a two-way street with dialogue, understanding, and, most importantly, patients. Each person must be willing to do their best to understand the other’s point of view and work toward a positive resolution. A word of warning also, avoid dredging up old arguments because it will kill any hope of saving your relationship – let it go! And never underestimate the power of a sincere apology.

If you do manage to work things out, understand first that any relationship is an ongoing process requiring practice and patience, and it will be different than before, changed for the better. You’ll be moving forward from a more solid foundation.

I’m the first one to say this sounds like a bunch of self-help chicken soup. It certainly does, but sometimes that’s necessary. Still, I know that I’ve ruined my share of relationships because I was so worried about defending myself or being right that I forgot how much the other person meant to me. You can avoid that same stupid mistake.

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The Unexpected Banana

In Economy, Health, Local News, Opinion, psychology, sociology, Sports News, Uncategorized on June 19, 2023 at 8:17 pm

Deer In Headlines II

By Gery Deer

Did the headline of a news story ever leave you scratching your head, at least until you read the whole thing? Well, this is probably one of those stories and it begins, however odd it may seem, with a banana.

Once a week, I play basketball at the local YMCA, not with a team or anything, but just for exercise. On one of those days, a particularly nice, spring day, I was approached at the front door by a woman with a crate of bananas. “Would you like a banana?” she asked, cheerfully presenting the open box as if it were something from a jewelry counter display.

I honestly didn’t have an answer right off. It really wasn’t the kind of question I was expecting on the way into the gym. The more poignant question that immediately consumed me was, why is there a woman with a crate of bananas at the entrance to the YMCA?

A bit thrown by the random offer of fruit, I finally realized there were a half-dozen other people with her, all in athletic attire, and carrying signs and tables into a truck. As it turned out, I arrived just as a running event was closing, a 5K or the like. The box of fruit was what remained of the bananas provided to the runners at the support stations. So, never one to look a gift plantain in the peel, I gratefully accepted.

To most, a free banana might not, at first glance, seem like a life-changing incident. But, to me, it was at least thought-provoking; not because of the banana, but the spontaneous gift it represented. It’s not like I was having a particularly bad day in the first place, but that one, small action changed it, lightened my thoughts, and gave me a feeling I couldn’t quite express at the time.

As I settled into my basketball routine, I dropped the banana into my gym bag and set it aside. But I kept thinking about the randomness of having received such a thing, in such a random way, at such a random time. So, after a few minutes, I went back to it.

Strangely enough, I opened the banana and proceeded to eat it, while simultaneously dribbling and shooting a basket here and there. I would imagine I was a pretty strange sight, but what did I care? I had a banana – an unexpected banana.

I have to say, I never considered a piece of fruit as what might generally be considered “comfort food,” but that’s how it felt at the moment. There was something about this curious food, botanically categorized as a berry (I know! Weird, right?) that generated a strange and calm feeling of gratitude. What I felt was a level of contentment as I wandered around the court, shooting the ball, and munching away, oblivious to pretty much anything else – at least until the banana was gone.

I’m fairly certain the lady who gave it to me had no idea what an impact she made on one person’s day. I mean, it was just a banana, and she was trying to unload a box full of them so they wouldn’t be wasted. Still, there I was, my day lifted, my jump shot better – don’t be too impressed, it’s a low bar – and I was just happy. I had a banana.

So why should my banana story, umm… appeal to you? Come on, you knew I had to, right? Because something ordinary can be special if you let it. Because in the chaos of daily life, all the noise, distractions, and stresses, unanticipated treasures are all around us. We each have the power to let them move us, even if only for a few moments.

When you think about it, people are always searching for some kind of inner peace, a tranquility that seems more elusive and empty every day. Usually, we scratch our way through life, searching for even a hint of such thoughtful enlightenment by artificial means. But sometimes a quiet moment of unexpected joy and calm can emanate from the most unusual but ubiquitous source. Sometimes all we really need is for someone to give us a banana.

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What we both knew…

In Children and Family, Dayton Ohio News, Education, Health, Local News, Opinion, psychology, Senior Lifestyle, Uncategorized on June 12, 2023 at 9:57 am

Deer In Headlines II – SPECIAL EDITION

By Gery Deer

(Author’s Note: I am publishing this ahead of the normal print schedule because the events took place exactly 3 years ago on the date of this posting. I hope it will comfort people and help them recognize and appreciate that time when it comes – because, sadly, it will.)

While caring for my father, I did some journaling as his Parkinson’s disease advanced. The following is an excerpt from the painful day we both accepted the inevitable and how lonely a feeling it was for both of us.

Friday, June 12, 2020. Dad and I were sitting down to breakfast on the screen porch of my house. He’d been living with me for about eight months and, although he preferred spending his day in his recliner, I did my best to make sure he had as much fresh air and sunshine as possible.

By then, he needed help feeding himself, so I always took my meals at the same time. Sometimes he was talkative in the morning, commenting on a TV news story or counting rabbits in the backyard. But today he was quiet and struggling.

We had a really bad night, which had become the norm over the last several weeks. The insomnia caused by his illness was relentless and he grew increasingly restless and anxious by the day. Neither of us had slept more than a full hour that night. By morning, we were both more exhausted than the night before.

Most people are familiar with the tremors and involuntary movements associated with Parkinson’s. But it can also produce dementia, dramatic personality shifts, and even violent behavior – occasionally, all three. Fortunately, my father’s issues weren’t that severe. Instead, he suffered a kind of subconscious agitation, like a whirring mind that wouldn’t let him rest. As his neurological system decayed, it robbed him of the ability to sleep, often until exhaustion set in. It was as if his body’s electrical system was shorting out from some long, slow cascade failure.

This picture wasn’t the same day as the story recounted here, but it was a couple of days prior. Same spot, same circumstances.

All along, Dad had outwardly rejected his diagnosis, repeatedly asking the doctors, nurses, and therapists questions like, “They tell me I have this Parkinson’s disease. What is it?” He never accepted their answers. I think he was just hoping if he asked enough people someone would say everyone else was wrong and he’d be OK.

By this time, though, Dad was far worse than any of us realized. Although it didn’t register consciously, he was in fact in a great deal of pain which worsened at night. It left him painfully restless, and he couldn’t even tell us why. He had fought hard but was losing the battle – and he was becoming aware of it. So was I.

At breakfast that morning, I noticed he was very quiet and barely eating. When he became aware of my interest, he turned and said, in a raspy, enervated voice, “What’s happenin’ to me, Ger?” His eyes were tired, afraid, his expression pained and desperate. I didn’t know how to comfort him. “I don’t know, Dad,” I said. “But we’re not going anywhere, you won’t be alone.” I rubbed his back a bit, as he’d done for me so many times when I lay in a hospital bed as a child, and I realized how helpless and frightened he and Mom must have been.

We sat in silence for a long moment, both powerless, tired, and desperate to cast this burden on anyone who happened by, just to be rid of it. I helped him finish his breakfast and we stared out at the backyard for a long time as the morning sun poured over us through the windows. I didn’t say anything. He didn’t say anything.

After a few minutes, I took our breakfast dishes to the kitchen. When I came back I paused just out of his sight. He was motionless, silent, his head bowed as if in prayer. I didn’t move. I just watched him for a while. My Dad, once a strong, proud man, now reduced to a shell of himself – so alone, tired, helpless, and very sad. And I couldn’t save him. Tears rolled down my cheeks.

He finally raised his head and looked over at me. I sat down with him again and did my best to hide my expression, but I think he knew. We both knew. “Ready to go to your chair?” I said, choking back more tears. “Yeah. I’ll go to my chair.” Just 18 days later, he was gone.

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The Story So Far …

In Local News on June 9, 2023 at 2:09 pm

Deer In Headlines II

By Gery Deer

“The story so far – In the beginning the Universe was created. This has made a lot of people very angry and has been widely regarded as a bad move.” – Douglas Adams, The Restaurant at the End of the Universe.

My story this week begins very simply with a book. It is a wholly remarkable book called, “The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy,” written by the late British author, Douglas Adams. Of course, if you know the author and his work, then you may also know this has been a sort of holiday week for Adams fans as we celebrate, “Towel Day.”

Every May 25th, Towel Day participants pay tribute to Adams, who began the Hitchhikers legacy as a BBC radio play followed shortly after by the novelization and its sequels. Sadly, he passed away unexpectedly on May 11, 2001, at the young age of 49. Just a couple of weeks later, distraught fans organized the very first Towel Day celebration.

A towel-focused memorial might seem odd to the non-fan, but it was chosen because of the bath linen’s prominence in the Hitchhikers story. As Adams put it, a towel is, “the most massively useful thing an interstellar hitchhiker can have.” He then details its practical value in any number of ways such as a facemask, sail, weapon, and, of course, something to dry off with – if it’s still clean enough.

On Towel Day, fans around the globe carry a towel and share photos and stories online to express their love of the books and the author who came to mean so much to them – and me. In 2022, I was fortunate to have been chosen by the fans to be their Intergalactic Towel Day Ambassador, a title I used to raise money for children’s literacy.

I first read Hitchhikers when I was in junior high school and I remember being captivated by Adams’s style and skill for satire. In fact, if not for Adams’s work and a foul-up during a book signing in the early 90s, there may never have been a “Deer In Headlines” series nor my eventual career as a writer.

At the book signing event, I had a chance to speak with Adams. During our brief encounter, he was kind, polite, and thoughtful. He asked me about my interest in writing, which was waning at the time. But he encouraged me to keep going. “Whatever you do,” he said, “just keep writing.”

Years later I learned how Adams often struggled to put pen to paper, suffering from anxiety and severe writer’s block. It was at that point that his advice became even more meaningful.

It might seem like a silly sci-fi comedy on its surface. But, there is great wisdom and insight written into the Hitchhikers Guide series, more so than I would credit most other similar contemporary works. Adams used his space-going comedy series to make broad statements about modern life, technology, and self-awareness.

His vision of society as a whole is one that I typically share. Adams was an avid fan of technology, a “radical atheist,” often angered by how religions treat the faithful and he truly valued nature and the environment, using his talents to help protect some of the most endangered wildlife from extinction, like the White Rhino.

Through satire, drama, and comedy, Adams showed us our egocentricities, ridiculousness, and obsessions with the movements of small, green pieces of paper as a way to achieve happiness. Then he reminds us that it wasn’t the green pieces of paper who were unhappy in the first place.

We all need inspiration, something, or someone who helps us see the world in a way that feels right and lets us be our best. I was lucky to have had a host of inspirational people in my life, even if they weren’t aware of it.

Sometimes we don’t recognize those people when they’re right in front of us. Open your eyes today and see who inspires you. Thanks to Adams, I kept writing and it gave me a livelihood. So to all of you I say, remember that the answer to the ultimate question of Life, The Universe, and Everything is “42.” Now go figure out the question for yourselves.

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The Greatest Orchestra

In Children and Family, Environment, Opinion, Uncategorized on June 2, 2023 at 10:48 pm

Deer In Headlines II

By Gery Deer

During college, I played piano at a restaurant on the weekends to help pay for school, entertaining people as they dined. In the summer, patrons tended to linger and, fortunately for me, the tip jar reflected their approval of my work. But on those nights, I didn’t start the long drive home until after 2 in the morning.

When I’d finally arrive at our farm, I’d steer my old Mustang down the tunnel of pines that lined the long driveway, cut the headlights, slip it into neutral, kill the engine, and coast to a stop just short of the house. It was hard to gear down after that kind of evening – the people, my music, the energy – all of it. To try to unwind I would hop onto the hood of my car, roll up my jacket and tuck it under my head, lean back on the windshield, and just lay there staring up at the sky for a while.

Pre-dawn summer at the farm was like a different world. The smell of fresh-cut hay drying in the field, the sound of the corn stalks crackling in the night breeze, and the calmness of the cattle grazing lazily in the dark, relaxed me. Overhead, the night sky was speckled with pinpoints of light on dark canvas as if someone had been dabbling in abstract art.

When there were no clouds or moon, I could see the dusty path of the Milky Way overhead flecked with white and blue and yellow and red. It was like a gigantic bottle of multicolored glitter had been spread over black felt. Sometimes, I would catch a glimpse of a shooting star or two. It was so spectacular; no Hollywood movie effect could come close.

Enamored with the stars, everything around me seemed still, silent. But what some people might call ‘silence’ was actually pretty noisy, and musical.

The car hood was like the perfect concert seat, and like something out of a planetarium show, nature had her own musical score to go with the spectacular view I had. There was a natural orchestra tuning up and it soon began the overture as if someone raised a curtain at just the right moment. I was surrounded by the ratcheting sound of crickets filling the air from all directions. Like bass clarinets in a philharmonic, the deep, throaty call of frogs courting their mates echoed from the pond all through the valley around our house.

The percussion section punctuated the frog song as the century-old oak tree nearby rang out like tympani when an owl landed with a hard thud on one of the upper branches. In the bowels of the old tree, the owl’s white, downy chick was rousted from her sleep and began to screech her impatient hunger.

Off in the distance, one of the cattle groaned long and low as she watched over her sleeping calf. Not to be outdone, the pre-dawn breeze created a wind section that played the treetops in harmony with this early morning melody. I lay there, immersed in the sounds, sights, and feelings, soaking it all in and trying to capture every moment of it for later recall.

Sadly, the orchestra was coming to the last measure now as the sun was about to enter, center stage. I saw the slight orange glow on the eastern horizon and the stars had already begun to disappear. My private, drive-in concert show was about to end, and a long yawn escaped me. I looked at my watch. “Geez,” I thought, “it’s four in the morning already.” But now, I was calm. Now I could sleep, and I generally did.

That was more than 30 years ago, and my life has certainly changed a lot since those days. Back then, the excitement of the future lay before me and wouldn’t let me sleep for fear of missing something. I’d like to think I didn’t miss anything along the way. But, for all that’s been good in my life, what I wouldn’t give to lay out there on the hood of that car again watching the best show Hollywood never made, listening once more to the greatest orchestra ever assembled.

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